A/N: Hello guys! How's the hiatus going? Not so well? Haha. Me too. Now that there is a new promo, I am totally dying for the next episode. But I will say the break has been good for writing given my tight school and work schedule. This is a bit of an expansion for the Shane and April scene we saw in the last episode. Enjoy, and please do let me know what you think! Thank you for reading.

"Can I ask you something?"

Shane should have noticed. He should have noticed the moment he approached the bench to speak with his mentor that something was a miss with April Kepner.

Her posture was slumped, and she was staring out at the dim parking lot as though she wasn't really looking at it. Dr. Kepner's legs were crossed up on the bench in what would no so politically correctly be called 'Indian Style'. The way they make children sit in school. there was also the apparently unnoticed dampness of her lab coat revealed how long she'd been sitting out in the Seattle mist. Shane should have picked up on all this. He prided himself on his keen powers for taking in the smallest of details about the people around him. It was one of his best tools for navigating the baffling social world of this hospital.

Except the whole 'hospital is closing, you just lost your job thing' had messed with his head and his skills of observation. Shane had just walked right up to his mentor, far too focused with his own looming issues to notice that April Kepner was not herself. If he was preoccupied about his future as a doctor, it was clear that Kepner was even more worried. The ER was gone and April was not a board certified fellow. Her options would be limited.

Shane was so preoccupied with protecting his own skin that he failed to notice that April looked lost.

His mentor looked up at him and spoke teary dazed way, "You wanna know how something like this can happen?"

Shane really wasn't going to ask that question, but he figured he may as well let her speak, since it was clear that that was the question on April's mind. Plus he always appreciated her perspective on things. Some of the best advice he'd received so far as an intern, about life and work, had come from Dr. Kepner.

"I don't know," she continued. "I guess I have to believe that everything happens for a reason. It's all part of some plan...you're supposed to learn something."

April's brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed as she stared out at the parking lot in from of their bench, like she really was searching for that sign; proof that this was all just part of some grand lesson that would, in the end, teach everyone something and leave them all better off. As much as he valued his mentor's insights, Shane just could not see how on earth that could be the case now.

There was no way getting let go from a doomed hospital would help anyone's path to a good surgical career and Shane felt like for him lessons weren't going to be drawn. He'd played absolutely no part in any of the financial ruin that had killed Seattle Grace. Nor had he ever for one moment taken for granted the privilege he had in being an intern. Or of being a doctor. A man of medicine; one who heals.

He felt as though he had done everything right, or at least made a good faith effort to do so, and he was still being crapped on. Shane supposed April felt that way too judging by the trauma surgeon's next words.

"You lose a patient because you forget to check their airway, you don't make that mistake again. You fail your boards because you are too busy sleeping with your best friend, maybe you stop doing that."

Shane's eyes widened and he swallowed. So there it was. Another piece in the puzzle of Kepner and Avery. He knew that they were friends before they'd hooked up. That they had kind of dated, but not really. He even knew that Jackson Avery was April Kepner's first. Shane knew that this sex outside of marriage thing went against Kepner's beliefs (a trait which Shane could just hear his grandmother applauding all the way back home). He also knew that she'd failed her boards. It was part of the reason she was so professionally vulnerable now. But the thing he hadn't known was how the facts fitted together.

Why April Kepner, who from his experience with all the attendings was certainly one of the best teachers, had failed her boards?

And the answer to that question, only served to make things more complicated as far as Shane could tell. Because April was saying that sleeping with Jackson Avery had impacted her performance at her boards. Quite negatively, in fact. And that, mixed in with the religion and Avery's arrogance and everything else? Maybe that was why it was so hard for them. The one thing Shane had had a hard time understanding all along. Why Jackson and April, who so clearly wanted to be together, who's gaze automatically sought the other as soon as that person looked away, just couldn't seem to manage to come back to each other. Whatever it was they had was linked to a failure. A pretty big failure.

That association might be hard for either of them to un-link. For Kepner particularly.

April rolled on, oblivious to Shane's drifting thoughts. Her voice wavered, "The hospital you call home shuts down just when you are starting to finally feel like you've got your life together..."

Shane felt a little uncomfortable. He felt bad. This was all getting a little too heavy. He'd bonded and learned a lot of this stuff with April at Joe's Bar after they'd both needed to lick their wounds after learning of the unfortunate thing going on between Stephanie and Jackson. It had been a really good moment actually. After that, Shane really felt as though their relationship as friends grew. She'd also made a consistent effort to teach him, and Shane was grateful for that.

But it was one thing to watch your mentor cry in a bar when she was drunk and you were too. This was at work. And stone cold sober. And it made Shane sad to see someone he respected so much look so lost.

So he tried half heartedly to lighten the mood,"Actually I was gonna ask for a letter of recommendation..."

For a slit second, Shane thought his ruse had worked, but his relief was shattered when April turned to look at him. Her gaze was full of pain, fear, and he didn't even think it was overstepping to describe the expression as one of despair.

"Oh."

The word cut from her lips wearily, propped up and propelled by the same single harsh breath that wanted to be a laugh. And then for a moment, April Kepner fell apart. Right there on a bench in front of what would soon be the building formerly know as Seattle Grace Mercy West hospital.

Shane's heart ached for his friend as she hung her head and cried, so he continued lamely, "But I could probably ask someone else."

April seemed to pull herself together a little bit. She squeaked, holding back her tears, "That might be best."

Shane swallowed and rubbed his hands together, uncertain of how to handle this. He was a caring, empathetic person, and he was a man. Tears were not things he was great at dealing with. He figured he had two options. The first was the easiest, but also the least appealing. He could leave. Simply extract himself from the situation and return to work. Or there was option two. Stay and try to offer what comfort he could, even though he was positive there was no comfort to be had anyway. Plus he wasn't even good at dealing with things like this. It made him twitchy and nervous when someone was in distress and he couldn't fix it. Shane was a doctor after all.

But, looking at his mentor, Shane knew that the decision was moot. April looked so alone and so forlorn. She was his friend, and his teacher to boot. He couldn't abandon her, no matter how uncomfortable he felt.

"So...that's what happened with boards?" Shane blurted, unable to let the silence continue.

April whipped her nose with the cuffs of her lab coat, "Yep. I mean...I don't know. It seems so."

Shane mentally kicked himself. Way to go. This is totally going to make her feel worse. April was sad, and talking about this was only going to make her feel even more like a failure. Maybe she'd be better off if Shane did just go back in side the hospital. He felt as though he was only pouring salt in the wounds at things point. And yet, he found he was unable to move from the bench.

Kepner turned to face him, chewing her lip nervously, "I've never told anyone that before."

Shane nodded, "I can understand why...but...look on the bright side."

"There is not really a bright side to any of this, Ross," April retorted.

"Yes, there is!" Shane pushed on, determined to turn around at least a little of his mentors heartache. If he could ease her burdens just a little bit, then maybe they could go inside and enjoy their last few opportunities to work at the jobs they loved.

"You failed your because you had a lot going on," he explained. "Not because you are actually incompetent."

"Oh," April replied once again. This time the laughter that accompanied the word did not end in full blown sobbing, to Shane's relief. "There is that I suppose."

Silence fell between them again, and Shane's shoulders slumped. April was staring straight ahead again with her hands folded in her lap, seemingly in deep thought. He didn't know at this point if he was helping or hurting, but as the quiet continued, Shane tentatively scooted closer to his mentor on the bench.

He froze then she suddenly spoke again.

"You should ask Dr. Shepherd for recommendation," April concluded, looking at her hands. "That really would be the best way to go for you. He has more clout. A real reputation. Application committees will recognize his name. People care what he says."

Shane's forehead wrinkled. She just didn't understand. Sure, he wanted to emulate Dr. Shepherd's career, and he loved learning and serving on the neuro surgeon's service. But April was his teacher. She was the first attending to take any sort of interest in him, and he'd watched her long enough to know that she was one of the most compassionate and organized attends in the hospital. She might not be destined for the same kind of career Derek Shepherd had, but Shane knew that April would do great things in medicine too. She just had a different trajectory. Shane kind of felt cool, because he felt like he was the only one who saw what a good teacher his mentor was. Eventually, he figured other people would catch on, but for now Shane was pleased to know he was one of the first.

And she was someone he wanted to emulate as a person. And he wanted to be like her when the time came for Shane to become a teacher.

He replied simply, and looked her straight in the eye, "I care what you say."

Kepner gulped and shrugged, using one finger to brush another tear from the corner of her eye, "You're the only one."

Shane sighed. At the moment that was kind of true. Though Shane and Stephanie and his own friends had briefly discovered the wonders of being on Kepner's service when the ER had been open, there were plenty of other interns and residents who called her the dud. And since it was trauma and all the blood and gore of the pit where April shined, the past weeks hadn't done much for her reputation. And as far as he could tell, virtually all the other attendings kind of treated her like a joke as well. The teasing was mostly well intentioned, and even funny a lot of the time. And the other fellows certainly had April's back when she'd brought in the hit and run patient. But Shane had always perceived a difference in the way Kepner's cohort treated her.

He kind of saw it in his own circle actually. Only for them the foursome was Shane, Stephanie, Heather, and Jo, with Leah on the outs. Looking at the effects of something like that on Dr. Kepner made Shane rethink his behavior. From this perspective he felt like a bit of a douche. His lesson from his mentor today would come in the form of changing his future actions when it came to Leah. Even if he didn't like her, he vowed never to act too cold. You never knew how a person felt on the inside. Or how much your words might get to them.

Out of the fellows in April's group, Yang and Medusa, Karev and Avery, the only one who seemed to consistently respect and defend Dr. Kepner professionally was Jackson. Though lately they'd been pretty much steering clear of each other, and occasionally stand offish when they were in the same room, Jackson always defended April when she wasn't around and someone crossed the line in snarkiness. Shane had overheard it in the OR many a time. Yang was often the culprit, or Karev. He never let the comment sit. Further proof, in Shane's ever expanding body of evidence that Jackson Avery loved April Kepner as much as he suspected she loved him.

"I don't think I am the only one," Shane said finally.

He scooted over once again, closing the gap between them on the bench and reaching out to pull his mentor into a loose hug. He wasn't sure how April would react, but to his pleasant surprise, she let him. Kepner sniffed and he patted her shoulder awkwardly. It was the best he could do, and at least she didn't seem to be crying as much.

"Someday, Dr. Kepner," Shane said firmly, willing her to believe. "People will care what you have to say. Someday, lots of people will care."